Betrothals & Betrayals
by Sushibear144
Summary: The Bennet family's has fallen on hard times following the death of Mr. Bennet. Will a chance encounter between Darcy's sister and a Bennet sister resolve both families' issues. Not before some angst and discoveries. This is just the first few unedited chapters. The rest of the story was pull and published under the pseudonym Cinnamon Worth.
1. Chapter 1

"Anne, you must learn to curb that boy's reading. It is for his own good. Boys should be outside, running and enjoying the sunlight." Lady Catherine looked down at her embroidery and searched through her basket. "Yes. This is the one," she said pulling out a spool of thread the color of the leaves in her work. "Sitting indoors all day, filling his head with useless knowledge — well, it simply won't do. How do you expect him to gain the social graces which will be necessary once he is expected to attend the season?"

"Catherine, that is so far away. Don't you think there will be plenty of time for learning such skills once he is in school?" Anne Darcy bent forward and picked up the tea pot from the coffee table. She looked to her elder sister, Catherine, and lifted the tea pot ever so slightly. Catherine shook her head.

"He will enter school with no social skills if you permit him to remain secluded indoors so much of the time. How will he know how to interact with the other boys when his only friend prior to school has been a novel?" Catherine wore her usual expression of a scowl.

Anne stared intently at her knitting with her jaw set. "His father encourages it," she replied. Since her sister's arrival to the parlor, thirty minutes prior, Anne's needles had started to bend and twist with increasing force and speed.

"His father should be encouraging him in more useful endeavors," Catherine continued. "When was the last time he brought his son hunting?" Catherine paused only a fraction of a second before flicking her wrist in the air as if she were brushing crumbs upward. "Probably never. I can only wonder at father's choice for you. Mr. Darcy is so bookish. He seems better suited for a life in the church than master of an estate." Catherine lifted the edge of her lip up in disgust and turned to her nephew. Her eyes roamed over his body. Anne could not read her sister's thoughts, but experience had taught her that Catherine was looking for fault. "Send him to Rosings Park this summer. Lewis will teach him how to become a man."

Anne stopped knitting but her grasp on the needles tightened. Her knuckles turned white. "George is a very noble man. I cannot imagine father could have made a better choice. He provides our son with instruction in a variety of pursuits. I am quite certain my child will grow into a fine man," Anne said pursing her lips. "Further, my husband believes reading enriches Fitzwilliams' mind, and I agree."

"Phuf," Lady Catherine said with a roll of the eyes and she raised her chin. "Enrich the mind — ridiculous. Boy, what are you reading there?" Catherine addressed the child of nine.

The child had been sitting in the corner with a book on his lap. He raised his large eyes from the page. Their expression was obscured by the massive curtain of chocolate curls hanging in front of them. "The Monk," he replied.

Catherine pressed her hand to her throat and cringed. "That novel where witchcraft is the least offensive act? Anne, what could you be thinking?"

Anne's cheeks grew red. She had not known this was the book her son had selected. She was appalled to hear his answer, but she would not reveal her feelings now. "I was thinking many things, Catherine. One thought was that my child will one day run this estate and that he must learn to make his own choices. Even if he makes an error in judgement, I am confident my child will learn from his mistakes." Anne shifted her gaze and settled an icy stare on her elder sister. "My second thought was that I must be spending far too much time here at Pemberley. I was entirely unaware that it was now acceptable to tell other people how to raise their children."

Catherine's mouth snapped shut and her eyes widened. She sat like this for nearly a minute before speaking. "Why," she blustered with indignation. "That boy will one day be my son-in-law. How can you criticize me…"

The doors to the parlor opened causing Lady Catherine to fall silent. George Darcy entered and crossed the room. He bowed to Lady Catherine and leaned over the back of the couch to give his wife a small kiss on the cheek. Then he turned his attention toward his son and his face lit in delight.

"William my boy," George said as he beamed at the child. He bent down and threw his arms out.

Fitzwilliam closed his book and set it on an end table before running into his father's arms. The embrace was cut short when the boy struggled to break free. As soon as his father released him, William looked up and asked, "Can we go riding, Papa?"

"Of course we can, just, not right now. Your aunt has just arrived and I haven't had the pleasure of spending time with her." George picked up his son, walked around to the other side of the couch. He sat next to his wife while positioning his son on his lap. "Lady Catherine, how was your journey." The words were said with the perfect amount of curiosity and enthusiasm but there was a quality to the exchange that only those most familiar with George Darcy might notice. It was a combination of subtle facial shifts, an almost imperceptible quality to his voice, and a odd stiffness in his form that belayed a hostility hiding beneath the smooth civility.

"Tiring," she replied. Catherine's disdain for her host was far more obvious. Her eyes slowly trailed from the man's head to his feet. To any casual observer it would be perfectly clear that she was entirely unimpressed. "Anne, I think I would like to shown to my room. I would like to rest before dinner."

Anne retrieved a small bell and rung it. Within fifteen minutes, the Darcy family was left alone in their parlor.

Once Lady Catherine was no longer in the room, Fitzwilliam jumped from his father's lap and returned to the task of reading. George stretched out, crossing one leg over the other and resting his arm along the back of the couch behind his wife. "How long will we have the pleasure of entertaining your sister?" George asked.

"Her husband has traveled west to investigate a land development endeavor. She will be staying with us until her completes his business and collects her." Anne folded her knitting and set it in her lap. "He thought he would return in a week's time."

"A land development endeavor so far from Kent? They are not considering spending a portion of the year away from Rosings Park, I hope." The fear and mortification in his own voice finally reached the man's ears and he hastily added, "I mean, Rosings Park is so lovely. It would be a shame not to take full advantage of all it had to offer."

Anne cast a sideways glance at her husband and one side of her mouth lifted in amusement. "I would not be surprised to discover there is no land development at all. It is quite possible he simply hoped to give his wife an opportunity to spend a little time alone with her sister. He may have wished not to burden her, or her family, with the task of providing for his entertainment."

The strain in George's face lifted causing many lines to disappear. He reached forward and poured himself a cup of tea.

Fitzwilliam set his book back down. "Mother, I like spending time with Uncle Lewis. Why would he worry it was a burden for us to entertain him?"

Anne's cheeks colored and her husband chuckled. After a short sigh, she beckoned her son to her side. "This is speculation on my part, Fitzwilliam. Perhaps he simply wished to enjoy some quiet time alone."

Fitzwilliam nodded. "Yes. That would make sense. I felt the same not half of an hour ago." He turned toward his chair and waiting literature, but paused. Slowly he pivoted back to his mother. "Mother, why was it Uncle Lewis married Aunt Catherine?" His mother's expression caused the boy's cheeks to redden. "I don't mean to imply he doesn't love her, but I…."

"It is alright, my dear." Anne lifted her son onto her lap. "I know you to be a very discrete boy so I will be honest with you if you promised never to repeat what I say."

Fitzwilliam leaning into his mother's loving embrace and nodded. "My sister has numerous admirable qualities, but she also has many opinions which she shares more freely than she ought. I, more than most, know that she can sometimes be challenging to live with. But always remember she loves you immensely, as I do, and has only your best interest at heart." Anne pulled her son close and kissed the top of his head.

"Did Uncle Lewis ask her to marry him because he saw her admirable qualities when he met her?" Fitzwilliam asked.

"Not exactly. He hardly knew your aunt when he agreed to marry her. You see, my father arranged for our marriages."

"Did Grandpa arrange for your marriage to Papa, as well?"

George leaned over and pinched his son's cheek. "He did. And it was my good fortune that I happened to be selected for the gem of your grandfather's collection."

"And you learned to love each other?" Fitzwilliam asked. His nose crinkled.

George nodded, "Very much so. Our parents understood us very well and knew what would make us happy. Someday, when you are older, your mother and I will work with you to find the woman who will make you as happy as your mother makes me."

"Then — will you be selecting my bride?"

His mother smiled down on him. "No, sweetheart. We will simply do what we will always do and will act as counsel, if we are needed. If you request our assistance with introductions, we will comply. If we have concerns, we will voice them. But it will be your decision. Just remember, you are not alone. We will be there to help you, you only need ask."

Darcy looked around the ballroom. Silks of bright colors whirled around him. The hum of hundreds of guests speaking was periodically breached by a high pitched giggle or deep laugh. He felt as though the room was closing in on him. He had to get air. He did his best to remain undetected while crossing the room and slipped out a door that led to a balcony. There were at least a dozen other guests enjoying the cool night air, but Darcy did not mind. He could once again breath. Once his heart beat slowed and the pressure in head cleared, he reached into the pocket of his coat. He removed a locket and opened it. The locket held two miniatures: one of his father and one of his mother. He looked at their images imploringly. You promised you would be here to help me with this. The refrain ran through his head several times but when he looked up, nothing had changed. He closed the locket, returned it to his pocket, and reentered the ball room. He would need to find his cousin, Anne. He would be dancing the next set with her.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"If I do say so myself, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, you look as pretty as a peacock." Emma Gardiner stepped back and admired the elaborate hair style she had spent hours perfecting. It was the latest style, and even if her lady's maid could achieve the same look in half the time, Mrs. Gardiner prided herself on being able to personally mimic any style appearing in one of her fashion magazines. It just went to prove that patience and perseverance outweighed training and practice. Not that Emma's failure to practice was intentional. Rather, it was due to a want of opportunity. Her girls were too young to sit still for the length of time it took her to create such a magnificent coiffure, and she only had her dear niece to practice on but a few weeks each year.

"It is beautiful, but you do not think it too much for a day on the beach?" Elizabeth asked looking in the glass.

"I understand that a beautiful ball gown would be ruined by such an outing, but I see no reason one may not wear their hair as they please regardless of the setting. I know of no rules regarding hair styles in times such as these." Emma noted her niece's frown. "I see you are not convinced. But unlike a gown, your hair will not care whether left it is in this style or put into a simple bun. More importantly, your father would want you to look your best and feel pretty. Little can be done to your clothes, and I think he would be pleased to see you were breaking from convention a little with your hair style."

"I suppose you are right. Although I still feel the pain acutely, it has been six months since we lost him." Elizabeth sighed and her eyes misted up. "He always did find it amusing to challenge propriety ever so slightly. It is just," Elizabeth reached up and touched her hair, "it makes me stand out. But after all of your efforts, I cannot dream of undoing your masterpiece."

"You were born to stand out," Mrs. Gardiner said brightly. She walked to the dresser and picking up two wraps. "Let us go. We will visit the apple market and then enjoy a stroll along the seashore. It is your last day of freedom, and I know how much you love walking."

The two set off, linked arm in arm. It was a perfect day for late fall. The air held a chill, but the ground contained no puddles and remained solid. Elizabeth walked with her shoulders pulled back and head held high. At one point, they walked by a bush that was evidently the premier eatery for the local fowls, and Elizabeth cocked her head to one side listening to the furious banter of these exotic species.

Emma watched her niece with interest. She could not help but assume that the heavy cloud of grief which had engulfed Elizabeth was finally lifting. "Is that a little smile I see? I knew a pretty hair style could help the carefree, fun Elizabeth find her way out again."

"I am sorry, aunt. I know I have been gloomy as of late." Elizabeth looked down at her feet and kicked a small stone. It clattered as it fell off the sidewalk and rolled along the uneven pavement of the road.

Mrs. Gardiner gave her niece's arm a warm squeeze. "Which is completely understandable, Elizabeth. I did not intend to criticize." She reached into her receptacle and withdrew a small tin of hard sweets. She opened the lid and offered one to Elizabeth before taking one herself. "I was merely happy to be reminded that soon, you will recover. You are not made for unhappiness, my dear."

They rounded a bend and boardwalk became visible. Before either noticed the visual cues altering them to their proximity to the ocean, the smell of salt carried through the air on a cold breeze drew the ladies' attention. They hurried forward and, upon reaching the wide walkway which ran parallel to the shore, both women stopped. The enormity of the ocean was inspiring.

"Oh, may we stay here a moment?" Elizabeth asked. "I admit that I often allow my focus to grow narrow. I remain transfixed on my own woes. But to see something so vast — so expansive — it reminds me that my troubles are small when compared to our world."

Mrs. Gardiner smiled at her niece and nodded. The two stood against the railing and admired the scene before them. The ocean displayed its inky, blue-grey hues against a backdrop of cliffs. Waves silently crept forward until jumping upon the sandy shores with a crash. They reached out and tickled the edge of land with foamy fingers then rushed away to avoid retribution.

"You are right,"Elizabeth said after a minute. "I am not designed for unhappiness and it would be hard for me to remain unhappy living here. Although I will miss the beautiful woods surrounding Hertfordshire." A tear gathered in Elizabeth's eye.

Her aunt put an arm around Elizabeth's shoulder and pulled her into a gentle embrace. "I understand Mrs. Parker is a lovely woman. And although this is a different view than the ones you are accustomed to, from an objective standpoint is it not just as appealing?"

Elizabeth nodded. "But I would trade all of the lovely views in the entire world if my sisters and I could remain together." The single tear that had escaped now lead a rebellion. Elizabeth's cheeks grew damp.

Emma again opened her bag, this time, searching for a handkerchief. Finding one, she held it out for her niece to take. "My mother used to tell me that I would find some use for all these handkerchiefs I needed to make in an effort to improve my embroidery."

A small chuckle, or perhaps a tiny sob, escaped Elizabeth as she dabbed at her eyes and dried her cheeks.

Watching her, Emma's eyes now too threatened to betray her cheery exterior. "Elizabeth I am so sorry…"

Elizabeth's tears stopped flowing and she turned to face her aunt. "You are not permitted to blame yourself. You have done more than you could afford and more than you ought." Elizabeth grabbed her aunt's hand and pulled her forward, indicating that she was ready to resume walking. "Besides, even if you could keep us indefinitely, Mama intends to remarry once it is proper to do so. She believes it is the only way to support a family of six. Unfortunately, I cannot say she is mistaken. Once she is remarried, it would spark rumors if her daughters continued to live with her sister."

"Nonsense," Emma said, "At least you and Jane are old enough that it is plausible you would choose to stay with a relative who lived in town. I know that would not be your entire family, but surely it is better than staying here by yourself."

"My mother rarely spoke sense when Papa was alive, but she now she has developed a practical side. On the day we left, she told me that relying on charity alone is foolhardy, and she is right. I am very grateful you helped me find this position but I ask no more. We both know that if my father was alive, it would only delay this inevitable event."

"No!" Emma looked at her niece, brows furrowed. "You would have married, Elizabeth! You still might."

Elizabeth shook her head. "Perhaps I may have been taken in by Jane to act as a governess, but I would not have married. I promised myself long ago I would only marry for love. I discovered too late, my standards for love are too high. Acting as a companion to Mrs. Parker is not so very different than being a governess. Father's accident may have pushed me into the next phase of my life, but it did not alter its course."

The women reached a popular lookout along the boardwalk. Both stopped and again admired the views.

"I think I can be happy here," Elizabeth said. "It looks so powerful, yet it calms my spirits."

Mrs. Gardiner's gaze was fixed on a point near the horizon and a frown took hold of her face. "I am sure you could, but the air has taken on a distance chill and the clouds rolling in are dark. They appear to be heavy with rain." She pointed to an area many miles from land. "You can see it rains out at sea. I think it is time we head home." She turned toward the street.

"Please," Elizabeth pleaded. "May I return on foot? The clouds are not moving quickly, and once it rains, I will be unable to take another stroll until the roads again dry. I promise to walk quickly, and if I am caught by the rain I will hail a hack."

Mrs. Gardiner looked back toward the water and studied the sky overhead. "Alright, my dear, but do not dally. I predict the storm will hit within an hour." She hailed a cab, and after saying goodbye, Emma climbed into the carriage. The driver pulled away and the wheels clattered against the cobblestones.

Elizabeth began walking in the same direction as the carriage. She watched it grow smaller as the distance between them grew. As the carriage was approaching a curve in the road, a gale of wind hit her and a flash of white caught Elizabeth's attention. She looked to her left just in time to see a bonnet with a while satin ribbon floating by. She reached out and grasped the long ribbon. With the bonnet in hand, Elizabeth turned to the task of locating its owner. A young girl of fifteen was standing across the street one hand touching her head. She was turning in circles scanning her surroundings.

"Have you misplaced this?" Elizabeth called, holding the bonnet out toward the girl.

"Oh, thank you. Yes." The girl left the level sidewalks and hurried toward Elizabeth. In her rush, she teetered upon the slightly uneven road.

"Please stay there," Elizabeth called as she nimbly hopped across the street. Once she stood facing the girl, she returned the bonnet and took note of the stylish ensemble the girl was wearing. The girl's face was pretty and her eyes stared at Elizabeth with admiration.

"You crossed with the grace of a cat," the girl stammered.

Elizabeth pointed to the cobblestones. "My boots are very good for walking and this surface is very even compared to the paths that run behind my — what used to be my home."

The girls looked down at her skirt and blushed. "I am afraid I have not dressed with the weather or with a walk in mind. I found myself here rather — unexpectedly." She looked back to Elizabeth and smiled. "I am Miss Georgiana Darcy. I cannot thank you enough for retrieving my bonnet." Another cold wind blew. Georgiana held onto her bonnet with clenched fists and Elizabeth noticed she shivered.

"You have no coat," Elizabeth said for the first time appreciating how underdressed Miss Darcy was. "You'll catch your death out here if we don't get you indoors." Elizabeth scanned the street. "There is a shop that appears open down there. If you wait inside, I will call you a cab." Elizabeth removed a shawl she had worn over her coat. "Here," she said handing it to her new acquaintance. "It is not enough, but it will help a little."

Georgiana nodded, took the shawl and wrapped it around herself. As two walked down the street, large rain drops began to fall. Georgiana hurried to the edge of a line of buildings and huddled under the elves. She looked up to see what had become of her new acquaintance.

Elizabeth was completely amused by the circumstances. She looked up at the sky and allowed the rain to wash over her. "It seems we've been caught in a storm," Elizabeth laughed. She imagined what she must look like. All of her aunt's labors would be destroyed.

Elizabeth's laugh was infectious. Georgiana gave a little giggle. "It is hard to remain worried or upset when surrounded by such cheer," she shouted. "Are you not embarrassed or concerned what others might think?"

Elizabeth withdrew her eyes from the clouds and focused on Miss Darcy. "That I do not repel rain?" she asked. "I am merely mortal. Why should I expect to remain dry when caught in the rain or foresee a sudden storm before it begins?" Elizabeth joined Georgiana under the eve. "I am a touch uncomfortable, however, and think you must be even more so. Let us go find a warm fire. I have it on the highest authority that this will prove the best cure." Elizabeth's kind voice and self confidence bolstered Georgiana's own self-assurance.

The two continued on their quest to locate a cozy shop and were soon rewarded. When they entered the establishment the proprietor's eyes grew wide. He ushered them toward the fire, procured two seats from a storage area in the back of the shop, and assured them he would send a boy to find them a carriage. The women settled in, and Elizabeth's predictions that warmth would prove healing came to fruition.

"Now, Miss Darcy, I shall introduce myself. I am Miss Elizabeth Bennet and I am most curious as to how you found yourself unexpectedly outside and why you might be worried or upset."

"You could tell I was worried upset?" Georgiana asked as she wrung her hands.

"I have not have the opportunity to observe you sufficiently to make any such guess. I know you are troubled as you told me it was hard to remain worried or upset when surrounded by cheer."

"Oh," Georgiana looked to the ground and bit her lower lip.

"I will not pry. After all, we have only just met. But it has been my experience that when one reveals so much about one's inner turmoil so early on during an acquaintance, it is because the need to unburden one's self is great. And often it is easier to speak to a stranger who is unfamiliar with the situation." Elizabeth stood and removed her wet coat. She walked to the fire and held the wet side to the flames.

Georgiana chest rose and fell with a deep breath. Her shoulders slumped. "You are right," she said in a small, thin voice. "I am troubled."

Elizabeth returned to her seat and leaned in toward Miss Darcy.

Georgiana lifted her blue eyes and studied Elizabeth. "May I tell you my tale without fear of judgement?"

"Of course," Elizabeth answered.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"I am not sure where to begin," Georgiana said. She rubbed her hands down the length of her skirt. Why did her mouth feel so dry?

"Perhaps you should start at the beginning?" Elizabeth offered.

Georgiana took a deep breath and began, "Well, it is probably important to explain that I am an orphan." Georgiana perceived the shift in Miss Bennet's expression. She quickly added, "Please do not fret. I have two wonderful guardians and am extremely happy with my life. I mention that my parents are gone because it has a bearing on my tale." Georgiana closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind before continuing. "My elder brother is one of my guardians, and when I was very young, he had a close friend named George." She paused and withdrew into her memories. Then, as if to herself, she added in a quiet voice, "Actually, George and his family were very close to my entire family, although we were not part of the same social class."

Elizabeth nodded. "I do not wish to jump to assumptions, but your apparel is extremely fashionable. Am I correct that you come from a prominent family?"

Georgiana's focus returned and she blush. She offered a brief nod to inform Elizabeth that she had guessed correctly. "And George's father worked for my father. As a child, I adored him. He was charming, funny, and mischievous. In the eyes of all those living on my family's estate, he could do no wrong." A small smile fell on Georgiana's lips as the happy memories of her youth swept through her mind. The fire made a loud pop, startling both women and prompting Georgiana to continue. "But then George left with my brother for school and something changed. At first, there were small changes, which I was able to ignore. My brother mentioned George less and less in his correspondence, and when his name was mentioned my brother did not write with the same warmth he once had. But it was when they returned for holiday that I knew something was wrong." Georgiana pulled the shawl around her more tightly. It was not providing warmth, but it did provide comfort. "My brother was holding George at a distance. He looked at him differently. Something had changed. I had nearly built up the courage to ask why, when my father took ill. After that, nothing other than my father's health seemed to matter."

"I have recently lost my father and understand completely how difficult it is." Elizabeth said, searching her pockets for the handkerchief her aunt had leant her. She sniffled a little and one hand brought the handkerchief to her nose.

"Thank you," Georgiana replied. The look in Miss Bennet's eyes displayed such raw pain, Georgiana could not help but reach across the divide and take the hand that still lay in Elizabeth's lap. "The pain will lessen, I promise. Although it may never disappear entirely."

Elizabeth looked from the girl's hand up into her face. The smile she gave spoke volumes to the gratitude she felt.

Georgiana continued. "After my father's death, George disappeared. I felt so abandoned. He was like a brother to me. To lose him so soon after losing my father — well, the grief was overwhelming."

Elizabeth nodded. "I understand exactly what you mean," her voice quivered. "After my father's death, our family's estate passed to a man who had a long running feud with my father." Elizabeth took a jagged breath and looked away. "This man used the opportunity of my father's death to take revenge upon my family," she continued. "We were immediately turned out of our home and had to seek help from our remaining relatives. Three of us stayed with family in London while three remained with family in Meryton." Elizabeth dried the tears that had started to flow. "It is so hard to lose the support of your loved ones after the death of one's parent."

Georgiana squeezed the hand she had been holding. "I am so sorry. If there is anything I can do…"

"Actually," Elizabeth said, "please continue your story. I find listening restorative."

Georgiana closed her eyes and then opened them and looked into the fire. "I did not see or hear from George until two months ago. My companion, Mrs. Younge, gave me a letter. She had met my childhood friend while visiting London. In this letter, he claimed that he had always loved me and had confessed his feelings to my brother while they were at school together. He said my brother became enraged because he did not deem a mere son of a steward worthy of me. He went on to claim that he had been cheated out of a small inheritance my father had intended for him because of my brother's pride, arrogance, and indignation."

Elizabeth's mouth fell open and she touched her throat. "Did you not say your brother was a wonderful guardian? How can you reconcile such very different accounts?"

"I cannot. I wrote back to George and after some correspondence, we agreed to meet in person. Mrs. Younge made the necessary arrangements. I hoped to ask him to better explain my brother's words and actions, for I was certain there had been a misunderstanding." Georgiana heart felt heavy. Relaying the events of the last few months was making her feel less nervous, but it began to dawn on her that her actions were not entirely proper. Had she really written to a single gentleman so freely? It had felt so innocent at the time. She had thought him as a second brother. But he had he not said he was in love with her? How could she act so inappropriately to a man who had confessed such passion?

Elizabeth blinked. The pain in her features seemed to receded only to be replaced with puzzlement. "Why had you not asked your brother to explain?"

Georgiana sighed. Her head dropped and shoulders slouched. "I wish I had." She lifted her head and looked in a Elizabeth's direction, "I very nearly went to my brother immediately. But George asked me not to, and Mrs. Younge convinced me he was unlikely to give me any answers." Georgia released Elizabeth's hand, and as soon as they were reunited, her hands began wringing themselves together. "My brother is a very private person and he is currently very occupied with his own troubles. I decided it would be best to first meet with George and hear him out. If his account of events was insufficient for me to pinpoint the source of the misunderstanding, then I would speak to my brother." Georgiana's gaze focused on something behind Elizabeth. She sat up straight, her hands stopped fidgeting, and she put on a small smile.

Elizabeth shifted in her seat and looked over her shoulder. There stood the shop keeper. "I hope you ladies are warming up. The boy came back. Said he could not find a cab on the streets. Shall I sent him over to the livery? They offer this service but charge more than those on the street."

"That would be lovely," Elizabeth replied.

The store keeper nodded and walked away. Elizabeth stood up and walked to the fireplace. She took a poker and rearranged the logs. Sparks scattered about like fireflies fleeing from the flames. She turned around and looked at Miss Darcy.

"I have four sisters. The bond we have can never be broken. You have said your brother is wonderful. If he truly is — speak to him first. Your parents made him your guardian because they trusted him to have your best interest at heart. You know him far better than you do a childhood friend who has been gone for years."

Georgiana again sank into her seat, "It may be too late for that. I came here to Ramsgate to meet with George. We were to meet today. That is why I was outside. I hadn't dressed appropriately for the weather because it all happened so suddenly. Mrs. Younge came in and told me George had sent her word that he needed to see me immediately — alone. There was a cab waiting out front. I went inside thinking he would be in there, but instead the cab took me to the street where you found me. I was there but a few minutes when I met you. And, here we are," Georgiana gestured to their surroundings. "Standing out there, alone, in a strange city — it frightened me. I do care for George. I always have. But his actions, the secrecy — it makes me feel nervous. I feel as if danger lurks around the corner. But why should I fear George or Mrs. Younge?"

Elizabeth returned to her seat. "Tomorrow I begin my post as a companion to Mrs. Ruth Parker. I have been told she is a lonely, older woman. I was hired because she knows so few people and simply wants company. I am certain she would appreciate a social visit should you be willing. I shall give you her address, and if you come by, perhaps you can tell us stories of George from your childhood." Elizabeth looked around the room for something to write with. "Maybe there is more to George than the sweet boy you remember. If you bring Mrs. Younge when you come to visit, I can see how she reacts to these tales. I will try to judge her character. She will not view me as anything other than a servant, and if she has a darker side, she will likely expose it most easily to me. It is rare to feel as you describe unless there is an underlying reason."

"Thank you," Georgiana said. "Speaking to you has brought me more comfort than I have felt these last two months."

The streets of London were deserted. The pounding rain had forced even the street urchins to find shelter. The thick clouds held the sun's rays at bay, and had the church bells not chimed, he could have been forgive for assuming it was the dead of night. But he cared not what time it was and did not listen to the bells. He had more pressing matters to attend.

His steed rode swiftly. The two moved so fluidly together, they could almost be mistaken for a centaur. The heat from the hard ride kept both rider and horse warm. At last he reached the great house and slid from the saddle with grace and ease. The exertion from his ride did not delay his pace, for he flew up the front steps as if in a single motion and rapped urgently on the door.

"Colonel Fitzwilliam," Mrs. Reynolds greeted in alarm. "You will catch your death being out in this weather." She moved aside and waived the young man in. "Wait in the parlor by the fire. I will find him and let him know you are here."

She hurried away while the colonel removed his outerwear, hoping to contain the puddle slipping off him. Once in the parlor he attempted to sit near the fire but found his legs needed him to move. Nervously he paced the length of the room while keeping one eye firmly on the clock near the French doors. After five minutes or so, his cousin opened to doors and entered.

"Richard," Fitzwilliam Darcy greeted warmly. He walked toward his guest with an outstretched arm. "May I offer you…" Darcy fell silent once he was near enough to see his cousin's expression in the faint glow of the fire. "What has happened?"

"It's Georgiana, and there isn't much time." Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam reached into his coat and pulled out a letter. He handed it to Darcy who had paused at the thought of his beloved sister in the path of danger.

Dear Colonel Fitzwilliam,

It is only the strongest of concerns that compels me to take the unusual step of penning this letter. I had the privilege of establishing an acquaintance with your ward, Miss Georgiana Darcy, in recent weeks. She is a charming and kind young woman who reminds me of my own dear sister. I have recently discovered she also maintains a friendship with a man by the name of Mr. George Wickham. I know little of Mr. Wickham's character through direct interact, but have heard rumors and have grave concerns. I have reason to fear Miss Darcy may be the target of this man's affection and felt you had a right to be made aware of the situation.

Sincerely,

Miss Elizabeth Bennet

Darcy's face grew ashen and he slumped into a nearby arm chair. "Who is Miss Bennet?"

"I do not know. This, in fact, has caused me even further concern," Richard answered.

"A complete stranger sent you a letter?" Darcy asked with alarm.

"Yes, but we cannot dismiss her warning out of hand simply because we do not know her."

"No. Of course not. Had I any notion Wickham was nearby, I would have remained by my sister's side both night and day. I do not know if Miss Bennet is to be trusted, but I certainly feel a visit to Georgiana is in order. We should be off to Ramsgate at once."

Darcy stood from his seat. "Where are you going?" Richard asked.

"To have someone ready my horse and get changed."


End file.
